


fifteen texts

by spiritscript



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Japan youth camp, M/M, Mild Language, Misunderstandings, Osamu mean brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27303436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritscript/pseuds/spiritscript
Summary: Not that holding Kageyama Tobio by the scruff of the neck so hard his t-shirt has ridden up to show the clean, defined lines of his stomach, and so close that he can feel his breath on his own skin, and so close he can see just how blue his eyes really are, is a joy. It’s decidedly not joyful. And less so now that he has processed all of these things. Ha ha. Shit. He’s definitely fucked up.Atsumu is still an idiot in his third year at the Japan youth camp and he kinda, sorta, maybe has a crush on Tobio and kinda, sorta, maybe does something stupid. He also needs to stop telling his brother things
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 32
Kudos: 333





	fifteen texts

**Author's Note:**

> rated t purely cos I have a potty mouth
> 
> anyway just a humble offering to the atsukage kingdom

**From: Rip-off**  
_Today 7:32 a.m._

> Tell toby-woby I say hi <3 <3

One day, Miya Atsumu is going to murder his brother and the court will decidely find him not guilty under the precedent that that cruel, shit-head of a brother damn well deserved it. That or he’ll just kick him really hard in the shin. Or pour salt into the sugar and vice versa to ruin all his food. But this last choice has the unfortunate possibility of pissing off his parents when their morning cups of coffees are ruined. So kicking him in the shin or murder it will have to be.

And unfortunately, he is currently over four hours away from said brother and twin, thus he shall have to wait. 

Dropping his phone back onto his lap, he takes another look around the small room packed with the best high school volleyball players under the age of nineteen. After the days training, most of them had found themselves gravitating here for some sort of repose. It had been a tough, though the training camp is always tough, and he could already make out the kids that were struggling and the ones that would flounder and fail by the end of the week.

This was his somewhat sadistic source of amusement; while the rest of the players were watching TV, talking, discussing plays, players, coaches, predictions for the upcoming season, Atsumu was trying to read them, or trying to remember faces from the year before that he didn’t see now. There’s only one person he’s really interested in this year, and as his eyes scan the room, he fails to see him. Some people had already gone to their rooms to rest up, or just avoid socialising, which Atsumu would have done if he wasn’t hoping to get a chance to talk to that one person he doesn't see. 

Instead, his eyes settle and mouth quirks as he watches Sakusa Kiyoomi trail after an over eager Komori Motoya. They’d have to do as a distraction for now, and he lets himself wonder how the two are related because he really would like to know. Do each of their families consider the other as the weird side of the family? How do family dinners go? Birthdays? Do they hate each other and Sakusa and Komori are the only two holding the familial bonds together and do-

“Miya-san?”

Scowling, he looks up at the rude interruption to the thoughts he’d been thoroughly enjoying. The boy is lanky, tall, with limp, still damp hair. He doesn’t recognise him and he is thoroughly uninterested in talking to him. 

“Atsumu.”

“What?”

“Just Atsumu.”

“O-oh.” The boy, Atsumu doesn’t care to ask for his name because he doesn’t care to learn something he’ll forget due to irrelevance, looks a little taken aback. “I, eh, I just wanted to say that I think you’re a great setter and -”

“That’s not an opinion, it’s a fact: I am a great setter whether you think it or not.” 

With that, he stands and leaves, having derived as much enjoyment from the gathering as he was going to get and even that was barely minimal. On his way outside, he stops at the vending machine, digs through his pocket for change and buys a diet coke, the thud of it loud in the quiet hallway. The door opens with a sigh and Atsumu breathes in the cool night air as soon as he steps out. It’s cold. He shivers a little and zips up his track jacket to try and ward it off as much as possible before climbing onto a bench and sitting on the back of it. The hissing sound of the can echoes loudly as he cracks it open halfway, letting the air escape after it’s tumble, before opening it fully and taking a long swig.

He sits there, still shivering gently, as he sips his coke and sends one message to his brother telling him to politely put his phone somewhere a medical professional would definitely advise not putting a phone, plants his elbow on his legs and just watches the night.

Behind him the door sighs again and there's movement in his peripheral. The light from inside momentarily spills out and casts a long, stretched out, humanoid shadow beside and before him, then the door shuts again, slowly cutting off the light making the shadow slowly disappear. He decides he doesn’t care enough to look at who has joined him, watching the small puffs of his breath rise into the air slowly instead. He takes a sip of his drink.

“You shouldn’t be out here.”

His eyes betray him at the sound of the voice and he finds himself looking over with a challenge in his brow, and a quirk on his lips. “Neither should you.”

Tobio just stands there, awkward under Atsumu’s gaze, cowering into his light jacket under the sharp bite in the air.

“You’ll catch a cold, don’t want a repeat of shrimpy’s show last year.” Atsumu’s eyes slide back to stare up at the sky. He takes another drink, his can is almost empty.

“Why are you out here?”

A large, fat, trailing puff of smoky air rises above him and dissipates into the darkness around him as he sighs. “I hate the city, too bright. Don’tcha agree?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He really is a little slow sometimes, Atsumu thinks as he glances back at him again.

“Yer from the countryside too ain’tcha? Can’t see the stars here like ya can at home right?”

Tobio’s cheeks are flushed and he turns his eyes skyward. It’s just the cold, Atsumu reasons reasonably because he is reasonable and not the type to get caught up in notions and ideas and what ifs and maybes like the maybe or what if or notion or idea that maybe, just maybe, Tobio is flushed because of Atsumu. Somewhere far away from here, he knows his brother is laughing at him. Unreasonably.

“Yeah,” he agrees and looks back at Atsumu, “you can’t.”

Atsumu turns back around without responding, fully aware he hasn’t answered the other boy's question. His eyes are once again staring at the stars, but every nerve ending is focused in his back where there’s a steady pressure of heat seeping through his jacket from the eyes behind him.

“Atsumu-san?”

“Hmm,” Atsumu replies, swirling the dregs of his can absentmindedly.

“Can I say something?” 

He lifts the cold can to his lips, feels the chill of the metal against his lips, wishes it was something warm, drains the last few drops, drops it and catches it with the toe of his shoe, kicking it gently. “Ya just did.”

He imagines the boy behind him scowling but doesn’t allow himself to look.

As it happens, he was not only wrong but also did not need to imagine the boy because he’s in front of him now, following the can that stutters to a stop. As he bends to pick it up, Atsumu watches his back, watches the mechanical yet fluid movements carefully calculated and stiff in the cold. Tobio straightens up and turns to back Atsumu, his face clear beneath the lights, eyes meeting Atsumu’s easily. He begins to walk back towards the door silently and drops the can in the bin beside it just before opening it - the light spilling out and stretching his shadow across the asphalt again.

He pauses, looks back at Atsumu who was watching him the entire time, and seems to consider something.

“I just wanted to say that I’m surprised you’re here this year.”

It takes Atsumu a moment to process what he’s just said, the words falling like a feather and landing like a brick. What the hell does that mean, Atsumu wants to know. But he’s already gone.

He should leave it. It was rude but he should leave it. He is his elder, he is a captain of a volleyball team, he is - 

Yeah, he’s not going to leave it.

x

There’s no need to knock. This is not a time for knocking. There is a time for knocking and it is most definitely not now. Kageyama Tobio does not deserve such a courtesy as knocking, so Atsumu does not knock and flings the door to Tobio’s room open with a bang that still isn’t loud or dramatic enough to fully encompass how thoroughly annoyed he is. At least he didn’t knock. 

“What the fuck?” Atsumu grits out, calculatedly slow and grating, trying to contain at least some of the anger roaring inside of him. 

Hoshiumi looks up at him in confusion and Tobio looks at him with a blank expression that’s simply a bigger affront than what he’d said. 

“I asked ya a question.” Atsumu’s says slowly because Tobio can be slow, but he also can’t quite suppress the way he’s almost shaking with repressed rage. And to think he thought he maybe, kinda, sorta... didn’t like, but, not definitely didn't not, liked this guy just this morning.

“I don’t know what you’re asking.”

Atsumu is over him in the moment, hauling him up from the bed by the collar, working on sibling reflexes which are always fine tuned into fight mode and don’t allow him the chance to process the movements. Behind him Hoshiumi has begun talking loud and fast, saying something that Atsumu can’t focus on - there’s minimal space between him and Tobio and all he can think about is what the fuck did that mean.

“What ya said outside,” he seethes and he knows Tobio can feel his breath they’re that close, “you’re surprised I’m here? What? Yer the only setter worth a damn anymore?” He shakes him slightly which luckily serves to increase the distance between them by a fraction. “I stole yer fancy lil quick don’t forget that, and I’ll shove it in yer face again and again and again when I kick yer fucking ass at nationals cos maybe I’m twice the setter you are, little king Tobio-kun.”

He’d heard about the nickname once, it’s fabled origin and the rumoured reaction it evoked. He hoped it would drive its way into Tobio’s chest and impale his heart and give Atsumu a reaction, any reaction, but preferably annoyance, irritation, anger. Preferably all three. But Atsumu’s not picky.

It doesn’t. Instead Tobio’s hands are around his wrists in a matter of seconds, firm, and his gaze meets his steadily. 

“I never said that -”

Atsumu is ready to shake him again, but forcefully this time.

“ - I meant that this camp is for people they’re considering choosing - ”

His grip tightens and he’s dragging Tobio in close again, balling his shirt up under his chin.

“I thought you’d have been selected already.”

And Atsumu freezes. 

He swallows.

He blinks.

Okay so he may have fucked up. Okay so maybe he jumped the gun. Okay so maybe he can be a bit of the asshole his brother always tells him he is. But only like ten per cent because really it wasn’t hard to misinterpret what he’d said outside -

“Miya what the fuck?” Comes from the door behind him as his mind races and now screeches to a halt. He turns to see Hoshiumi and Komori peeking out from behind one Sakusa Kiyoomi: living nightmare and resident killjoy.

Not that holding Kageyama Tobio by the scruff of the neck so hard his t-shirt has ridden up to show the clean, defined lines of his stomach, and so close that he can feel his breath on his own skin, and so close he can see just how blue his eyes really are, is a joy. It’s decidedly not joyful. And less so now that he has processed all of these things. Ha ha. Shit. He’s definitely fucked up.

x

**From: Rip-off**  
_Yesterday 9:56 p.m._

> Tell me you didn’t. Fucking idiot

**From: Rip-off’s boyf**  
 _Yesterday 10:02 p.m._

> Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaha

Atsumu drops his phone onto his stomach and closes his eyes. If he didn’t know that both of those assholes always have their phones on silent, he would call them incessantly just to have the satisfaction of waking them up and pissing both of them off as royally as they truly deserve.

It’s not even six a.m. so it’s probably not surprising that Atsumu is the only person that seems to be awake. He’s an early riser, or at least has built up a routine that forces him to be in order to get a quick run in before school. Though this usually has the consequence of falling asleep in whatever his first class of the day is and results in break time detention too often, so it's a routine he’s not sure is actually worth it. Either way, he woke up this morning at half five on the dot and knew he wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep again, because he’d done a damn good job at fine tuning his body to the routine and he also didn’t want to run the risk of falling out of it. So he’d tiptoed out of his dorm room with only the light of his phone to guide him and made his way to the common room where he’s listening to his I-Pod on headphones he’d stolen from Osamu. If he’d know he was going to be such an ass he probably would have also stolen another one of his hoodies. Maybe all of his pens, just out of spite.

Seeing movement from the doorway, he looks up from where he’s not actually sitting but lying upside down on an armchair, legs hooked over the back, and sees Tobio standing there in his pyjama set holding a pen and a notebook in one hand and a mug of something in the other.

“Ya know,” Atsumu says slowly, pulling the headphones off his ears to hang around his neck, “if I was my brother, I'd probably offer ya an apology.”

“For what?”

Atsumu barks a quick disbelieving laugh. “Ya know well what.”

“Yeah,” Tobio says and looks him up and down in his awkward position, and maybe it’s the hour of the morning or the sleep still in his system but Atsumu feels (or simply deludes himself into feeling because his brother knows him better than he knows himself and he is sometimes the type to get caught up in notions and ideas and what ifs and maybes) that he does it slower than necessary, “but I wouldn’t mind hearing you say it.”

Grinning widely at that, he looks straight up at the ceiling as he begins to talk. “I’m not saying I did anything wrong but,” he stretches his arms out behind him, “if I, hypothetically, jumped the gun about something stupid and happened to be a dick without reason, maybe I’d feel a bit… not bad, but something about it. But only if they didn’t deserve it.”

Tobio scoffs at that but walks over to a chair across from Atsumu, opens his notebook and begins to write in it without another word. Atsumu puts back on his headphones, smiling to himself.

x

**From: Rip-off**  
_Today 1:12 a.m._

> so ya didn’t apologise? you’re such an asshole

> you’ll never have a chance

> don’t come home crying

> actually do I’ll have Rin here to take pictures

> they’ll go everywhere

> I’m serious I’ll make banners out of them for nationals 

Atsumu looks from his phone to the boy once again sitting across from him in silence. They hadn’t spoken much after their quiet morning the day before, they hadn't really had the chance. The days here are busy, there’s a reason only the best players are picked obviously, and yesterday had been particularly tough. Legs weary and hands aching, Atsumu had dragged himself straight to the showers after dinner and climbed into bed with his PSP and passed out with it still on. His choice to go straight to his room was done entirely because he was tired and okay maybe (but only a small, tiny bit) because maybe he had an inkling (which was more than an inkling really because he heard at least three people whisper about it without trying) that he couldn’t be bothered dealing with people after a certain episode the night before.

Yet, Tobio sits opposite him again, if what Atsumu is doing can be called sitting, writing in his notebook, sipping on his tea. And Atsumu can’t help but think (hope, or simply delude himself because he is definitely sometimes the type to get caught up in notions and ideas and what ifs and maybes) that his brother is very, very wrong. For once.

x

Sometimes the question as to whether taping another guys fingers is gay, has to be asked. Sometimes, to that question, the detail that you like said guy has to be added. Most specifically Atsumu needs to know if he crosses the entire width of the gym to help the guy he kinda, sorta, maybe, most definitely has a crush on (Kageyama Tobio) tape his fingers, because he is clearly struggling - the boy can’t even seem to find the end of the tape dear lord - entirely for the reason to hold his hand gently in his and slowly wrap sports tape around two of his fingers, is gay. Nevermind, he already knows the answer. Oh well.

He walks over and squats beside him. As he does so, Tobio looks up at him with hint of surprise on his features and Atsumu’s hit with a sense of déja vu from the year before. So it’s probably not surprising the eyes of half the people at the camp have turned to watch what’s happening, especially considering his little scene (hissy fit) the first night. 

But this time he holds out a hand, palm up, and Tobio looks from his face to his hand, before understanding and placing the tape into it, his fingertips setting the palm of Atsumu’s palm alight despite not even touching it. The tape feels heavy in his hand and he begins to run a nail along the smooth surface, catching the end and peeling it gently and stretching it out.

He looks at Tobio who's watching his hands in turn, eyes flicking up and holding Atsumu’s for one, two, three, four -

“Hand.” Atsumu instructs, wishing to smile coy and cocky, but all his mind can currently focus on loosening the knot in his throat and telling his body to breathe regularly.

Slowly, Tobio raises his left hand, “it’s the middle one,” he says.

“So yer not flipping me off on purpose?”

“No. That’s just a bonus.”

Atsumu laughs and begins to carefully apply the tape, wrapping it around his middle and ring finger carefully but securely. 

Pausing at the top knuckle he begins to wrap back down but a thought makes him freeze.

“Did you want me to wrap higher? I know I prefer to keep as much unwrapped as possible, I hate anything between me and the ball.”

Once again, Atsumu comes to the crashing realisation of just how blue Tobio’s eyes are. They’re so close. He hadn’t realised he’d been slowly leaning in closer and closer as he worked until there’s too little space between them and definitely not enough oxygen between them to support them both. He’s going to suffocate under that gaze.

“No, that’s perfect. I, eh, I’m the same actually.” So. Damn. Blue. And pretty. So fucking pretty. His lashes are so long. Cheekbones so sharp.

“Well, I mean I am perfect so did ya really expect anything less?”

“Okay!” echoes from the hall along with a thunderous clap and Atsumu is snapped back to attention, head whipping around to look at their coach, “time to get back to it.”

He rises to his feet and offers a hand down to Tobio, who accepts it, but keeps his face fixed to the floor. Not that it does anything to hide the pink now staining those sharp cheekbones.

x

**From: Rip-off**  
_Yesterday 6:48 p.m._

> gay

> Rin agrees

**From: Rip-off’s boyf**  
 _Yesterday 6:49 p.m._

> yeah I agree

Why Atsumu still texts his brother and tells him basically everything that happens to him is absolutely baffling, and he knows this, and yet he still does it. It’s like writing all of your secrets in one of those crappy voice lock diaries that literally a cat could open by purring at the right frequency; the information is not secure and everyone, especially the asshole that is Suna Rintarou, will find out. But like, a sentient version that will talk back to you and absolutely destroy you with those little secrets of yours. He really needs to stop telling Osamu things.

On the outside, Suna and Osamu are so quiet, and sweet, and caring, but are actually vicious and the day Atsumu murders them (or just kicks them in their respective shins hard enough to make them stop), he will be doing the greatest service to society in modern history, whether it realises it or not. 

“What’s wrong?”

Before he can do anything about it, his phone falls on his face and he definitely does not splutter and flail helplessly like a freshly caught fish on a hot pavement. Does not. 

And maybe if he did, start flailing and stuttering like a freshly caught fish on a hot pavement that is, maybe it would be kind of okay because there is a glorious, soft, little snicker coming from the chair opposite him.

And it doesn’t stop.

The sound continues on in a little shuffling place, interspersed with small, hiccuping breaths, and as Atsumu looks at him, Tobio ducks his face under his hand and slowly starts to take deep breaths, until one last, long puff of air seems to signal the end, and he finally looks at Atsumu again, a small smile twitching on his face.

“It wasn’t that funny.”

“No,” Tobio agrees and the smile steadies itself and grows wider, “but I was laughing more at you in general.”

“That’s just rude, Tobio-kun.” But he doesn’t take offence, not this time anyway (he had learned his lesson because he may have thought Tobio slow at first, but he’s come to realise that sometimes he's the slow one and like five per cent of the idiot his brother tells him he is).

It’s not an insult, just like the comment the first night was not.

“What I mean is... more than half the people here are wary of you, every high school volleyball team is terrified of you, but you’re really just…” he trails off, smile widening.

“I’m waiting Tobio-kun, ya might want to watch the next thing ya say.” He tries to grin back wickedly, but he knows it’s lost on Tobio, especially as the other’s grin grows steadily wider and eyes more challenging. 

Atsumu had shown his true self to him too much these past few days. He sighs deeply in the resignation he must admit to.

“You’re one to talk,” Atsumu says rising slowly, “all scary and brooding while yer definitely just doodling pictures of cats and me with little hearts in that little notebook there, don’t lie.” He winks and turns, but doesn’t miss the pink tinge on skin. 

You know what, Osamu is the idiot, he is totally smooth.

“Ya should’ve asked me ta pose, mighta done it like one of your French girls if ya’d asked real nice,” and he chuckles to himself all the way back to his room. He is also very funny.

x

**From: Rip-off**  
_Yesterday 9:32 p.m._

> No you’re not thats embarrassing not smooth how do you even know he got the reference idiot

_Today 7:28 a.m. _

> Mum wants to know what ya want for dinner

Soon, very soon he will be able to kick his brother’s shin. Although the menace in the thought is numbed by the disappointment he’s feeling. Tobio isn’t there this morning. He’s trying not to let his heart sink through his stomach because maybe (okay look he’s given up completely on pretending he doesn’t have these thoughts) he’s just tired and didn’t feel up to waking up early. Truthfully, Atsumu could have easily slept in too but for his own sheer force of will not to. He checks his phone for the time and decides he’s waited long enough. He wasn’t going to be joining him this morning, and that’s fine. It’s fine.__

x

__“Atsumu!”_ _

__Atsumu turns from where he’s packing the last of his clothes, reminds himself not to forget his toothbrush, and looks questioningly at the doorway where one Kageyama Tobio stands a little breathless. Atsumu raises an eyebrow._ _

__“Sorry,” he begins to look sheepish, “I thought maybe you’d left already and I, eh, wanted to say bye.” He’s looking over Atsumu’s shoulder, eyes fixed and a little too intense and focused._ _

__“Nope,” Atsumu replies and turns back to his bag, “any second now, but not yet.”_ _

__“That’s good.”_ _

__He hums in reply and bites his lip trying to stop the smile on his face and tone down the heat there too. He slides his zip closed and throws it over his shoulder._ _

__“So ya wanted to say bye?”_ _

__“Yeah.” Tobio nods, his own bag on his shoulder, and doesn’t make to actually say bye._ _

__“Ya ready to leave?”_ _

__“Hmm?”__

____

____

__Atsumu replies by nodding to his bag._ _

__“Oh, yeah.”_ _

__Atsumu allows himself to grin and walks to the door, Tobio steps aside as he pushes his way past.__

____

__“Good, we can walk together then. Forgot to charge my I-Pod so I guess talking to you will have to do.” That’s a lie, he made sure it was charged knowing the train journey was going to be a long one._  
_

__“Right,” Tobio agrees and follows him._ _

__They’re both quiet for the first few minutes, matching each other’s pace in silence. They’d sat together in silence a lot these few days, spoken a bit too. And suddenly Atsumu was hit with the realization that it wasn’t enough. Yeah it was never going to be enough because when you like someone there’s never enough of them but it really really had not been enough. They’d sat in silence too much, Atsumu had wasted so much time. Why is he like this? They’re close to the station, too close._ _

__“You know I - ”_ _

__“What did you - ”_ _

__Both of them stop and Atsumu laughs, “you go first.” He offers._ _

__“No, I think I’d rather hear what you were saying.”_ _

__Atsumu grins and knows that he’s not going to get away with insisting again, Tobio is stubborn. He sighs and finds himself scratching the back of his neck as he begins again.__

____

__

__“I was just gonna say you do know I actually am sorry about the first night. I know I didn’t not apologise about it earlier but like, I was just a bit of a dick.”_  
_

__Tobio nods and doesn’t say anything, they're almost at the barriers and they both stop, this is where they say goodbye. Atsumu turns to him ready to speak again and sees a piece of folded paper in Tobio’s hand held between two fingers._ _

__“It was my fault too. I was… unclear,” he raises the paper and Atsumu takes it. “Don’t,” Tobio says quickly and Atsumu’s fingers pause opening it, “wait until I’m… not here.” He’s pink all the way to his roots and the top of his ears._ _

__Usually Atsumu wouldn’t do as he’s told, even if it is Tobio, but he supposes he should do this much considering he’s not holding Atsumu’s hissy fit against him._ _

__“Bye Tobio-kun.”_ _

__“See you at Nationals.”_ _

__Tobio turns quickly and walks away, his ears still gleaming red and Atsumu opens what looks to be a piece of notebook paper and finds himself laughing loudly enough that Tobio can probably hear him. He scans his pass and goes through the barrier, finding his platform all the while not looking away from the terrible pen sketch of a little person lying awkwardly upside down in an armchair surrounded by little hearts._ _

__As he sits in his spot by the window his throat dries up. In the bottom left hand corner are ten little digits. Then he smiles._ _

Fuck, he forgot his toothbrush.

x

__**To: Tobio-kun**  
_Today 4:52 p.m._ __

> ____
> 
> Wait so does this mean I should grab you by the collar again next time I see you? 
> 
> ____

__  
__

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me [here](https://twitter.com/ohmiyamy/status/1322973857909714944?s=20)!


End file.
